


i've lost control (please save me from myself)

by ashkore_varg



Series: On the mend [1]
Category: Peaky Blinders (TV)
Genre: Alfie is the biggest lovestruck fool there is and I wouldn't have it any other way, Established Relationship, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Post-Season/Series 05, References to Depression, Season/Series 05 Spoilers, let Tommy be happy 2k19, let Tommy rest 2k19, references to suicide/suicide contemplation, there's absolutely nothing graphic in this fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-04
Updated: 2019-10-04
Packaged: 2020-11-23 11:57:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,197
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20891738
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ashkore_varg/pseuds/ashkore_varg
Summary: Failures and disappointments keep piling up for Tommy, and when the attempted murder of Mosley goes completely wrong he cannot take it anymore. That's when Alfie receives one of the scariest phone calls of his life.





	i've lost control (please save me from myself)

**Author's Note:**

> Oh my goodness, I've wanted to write for this ship for the longest time but never truly got round to doing it and actually managing to get anything done, so I'm actually pretty proud of myself for having finished this one! HAHAHA! 
> 
> I'm gonna have to thank the queen of Alfie/Tommy herself, [When_Tommy_Met_Alfie](https://archiveofourown.org/users/When_Tommy_Met_Alfie/pseuds/When_Tommy_Met_Alfie) for actually talking this idea out with me, and encouraging me to actually pursue this when I thought nothing good could come out of it. Thank you very much! ♥
> 
> As I said, this is my first attempt at posting something for them and I truly hope you guys are gonna be able to enjoy it! x

It was another grey afternoon.

The sea was shrouded in mist, the surface barely visible from the spot in Alfie's living room, especially difficult to see with only one eye. If only some cunt hadn't shot his left eye blind, then maybe he'd be able to see this ship clearer.

Of course he wasn't just spending his days sitting on an armchair and grumbling about how painful his scars were, he'd been working and orchestrating his gang from the shadows, from the afterlife, this whole time. But it was so nice to be dead, so nice to not be sought out by anyone else but his people, he'd have loved for it to stay that way.

Yet it was only wishful thinking. He knew sooner or later he'd have to become a ghost and haunt every single fucker in this God forsaken country. He only hoped it would have been as late as possible.

He ignored the ringing of the phone, he never answered that, especially not when he was ship watching. He had a maid for a reason. Yet when he heard the first two rings of the phone his stomach twitched, and he nearly dropped his binoculars.

Something wasn't right.

As a God, he knew something wasn't right.

Or maybe... Maybe as a lover, he knew just the same.

“Mister Solomons…” the maid called out as she entered the dusty living room.

“Hmm?” Alfie hummed, not turning to look at her, eye fixed on the ship disappearing into the mist.

“It's... It's an important call from Birmingham.” the maid hesitated at first, and even if Alfie did stir in his seat, he didn't say anything “It's Arthur Shelby.”

Arthur?

Of _ all _ the Shelbys?

Alfie furrowed his eyebrows, his features wrinkling in confused worry as he stood up a lot faster than the woman expected him to - what with his bad back and all. His guts were churning, alarms sounding off in his chest and head, something was terribly off.

“Go on, then. Tell Ollie to stay ready, yeah? I might have to leave, I need the windows of the car to be completely blacked out.” Alfie grumbled, managing to sound a lot less concerned than he actually was.

The maid looked somewhat shocked to hear his will, but she only nodded and quickly disappeared to fetch Ollie.

Alfie was by the phone in a few long strides, he took a shaky breath before lifting the receiver, then he raised his eyebrows as he finally spoke.

“Arthur! Shalom!” Alfie desperately needed to try and keep a light heart “Do tell, mate. To what do I owe the pleasure of this phone call?”

“It's Tommy, Alfie…” Arthur said, straight to the point. His voice sounded steady, but Alfie could make out the trembling in the way he breathed.

“I thought so.” Alfie nodded to himself, his bejeweled fingers tightened around the receiver, his stomach dropping to his knees at the mere mention of Tommy “Or you wouldn't have made a phone call to me, of all people, innit?”

“He nearly blew his brains out, Alfie. Had to knock the lights out of him, and all.” panic was seeping back into his words, and Alfie's heart nearly stopped.

He clutched at the edge of the console with his free hand, he felt bile suddenly climbing up his throat as his mind wrapped around Arthur's words.

Tommy never admitted to having problems, never admitted to harboring pain, just like he never reached out for help, unless it was about work. Yet Alfie knew that Tommy's mental condition was getting worse, just like life was getting so much harder and his enemies way more powerful and dangerous.

Still, he had no idea of the severity of things. He didn't think Tommy would actually...

“How is he now? Where is he?” Alfie asked through gritted teeth.

“He's in his room, but he just told Ada to leave... Won't let anyone in.” Arthur was on the verge of tears, his voice sounding unsteady and wet. He'd probably already cried.

Alfie straightened himself up, ignoring the sharp pain in his lower back “Look, Arthur... I'm coming over from Margate, but you lot cannot let him out of your sight for too long, right? I don't want him jumping out of a window or some shit.”

“We're gonna bribe him with some opium, that should put him to sleep alright.” Arthur said, he was already sounding more relieved.

“Fuckin’ opium-” Alfie growled, rolling his eyes and pinching the bridge of his nose “All that shit he drinks and smokes... That ain't helping him, mate, yeah? You gotta stop putting all that fucking poison inside of you.”

Tommy just loved poisoning himself one way or the other, he'd always been set on self-destruction from the moment he and Alfie had met. He remembered how he'd walked all the way to his bakery with a cracked skull and a nose oozing blood all over his desk.

What a fucking–

“Alfie. Please.” Arthur snapped him out of his racing thoughts “Hurry up.”

Alfie's heart cinched in his chest.

“I'm on my way.” he said before slamming the receiver down and kicking the armchair where he usually sat in during phone calls.

He let out a blood curdling scream, filled with all the fear and frustration that solidified the blood in his veins, and tore at his lungs.

The maid dared walking up to him and gently placed a hand on his arm. She knew. She knew everything. She knew how much Alfie loved Tommy and she knew how terrified Alfie was in that moment.

“Ollie's outside with the car, sir.” she simply said, a contrite expression wrinkling her features.

Alfie looked at her, eyes wild and jaw slacked as he tried to even out his breathing. He nodded at her, and she made a quick job of helping him shrug on his coat, handed him his hat and cane, then walked him outside of the mansion.

He was grateful for her, immensely so. He didn't think he'd be able to actually walk up to the car alone, not when his mind was obsessing over potentially getting to Birmingham too late, and his heart was pounding into his ears.  
  


***

  
  


Alfie knew how much time he had to spend inside his car any time he went to Birmingham from London, but now that he had moved to Margate he had put even more distance between he and Tommy. 

The whole ride to Tommy's had been a nightmare. His scars hurt, his eye stung, his back ached, his heart never stopped hammering inside his chest, and he kept snapping at both Ollie and Ishmael for the tiniest, most stupid things. Sure he did snap at them quite easily on a good day, but he was really close to killing both of them on such a grim evening. 

He tried to take a nap, tried to get his mind to switch off completely, but it was impossible. Every time he actually did manage to doze off, something would startle him back awake - be it a bump in the road, or Ollie and Ishmael not being quiet enough, or just his thoughts torturing him. 

When they finally stopped the car by the entrance of the Shelby mansion, Alfie scrambled out of the car and before he could even knock, a ghastly looking Arthur was letting him inside.

“Is he-?” Alfie choked on his words, unable to speak for the first time in many years. 

“He woke up earlier, smashed a mirror in a fit of rage and cut his hands in the process, but we managed to make him go to sleep again.” Arthur said, he wasn't looking at Alfie, he clearly couldn't bring himself to do so. “Ada patched him up, she's inside the room, now.” 

Funny how Arthur was usually the man of few words and now their roles had been reversed. Alfie would have snorted at the thought, but all he could do was ground his teeth together and hum to let him know that he had gotten the message. Way too loud, way too clear. 

When they arrived outside of Tommy's bedroom, Alfie's breath hitched in his throat. That was usually where they would make love in, and now he was going to have to see his lover in an awful state, lying in the very same bed in which only wonderful things normally happened. 

Arthur didn't knock, the door was ajar, and Alfie held his breath until he could see Ada sitting on an armchair by the bed, and Tommy lying underneath the covers with bandaged hands as he apparently slept. 

Ada perked up as soon as she saw Alfie, her jaw dropped open but didn't allow any sound to come out, instead she got up and quickly walked up to him. 

“Oh God, you're finally here!” Ada cried out softly, and Alfie stiffened when she threw her arms around him to pull him into a tight embrace. 

That had never happened before. 

Never. 

Absolutely, categorically. Never in a million years he thought Ada Shelby would hug him… But there they were. 

Alfie's eyes widened, and he awkwardly patted her on the back until she reared and looked vaguely embarrassed of her own actions. 

“We simply can't get him to calm down, he keeps crying and screaming and trying to hurt himself…” Ada's voice broke mid sentence, and so did Alfie's heart “He told me that some nights ago he nearly walked off a bridge. I knew he wasn't doing well, but this thing with Mosley-” 

A sob escaped her lips, and Arthur looked away, jaw clenched and eyes welling up with tears. Alfie hadn't imagined it was already this bad, but maybe he had his suspicions, a feeling of uneasiness in the back of his mind. 

“You're alright, Ada. You're alright, eh?” Alfie said as he patted her on the shoulder, in an awkward attempt at comforting her “I can't fix his tarnished little head, but I'm gonna try to make him better.” 

Ada managed to catch the couple tears that had strayed out of the corners of her eyes and nodded, moving from Alfie's way and gently pushing Arthur outside so that they could give them some space and privacy. 

Alfie watched as the door clicked shut not too far behind him, then sucked in a breath. He took off his hat and coat, and unceremoniously threw them on the armchair where Ada had been sitting in, hooked the cane on the back of it, then finally looked over at Tommy. 

His heart squeezed in his chest once his gaze rested upon his pale face. Alfie took a few, slow and quiet steps until he could carefully sit down on the edge of the mattress, by Tommy's side. He pressed his lips together into a thin line, then shook his head as he took in every detail of Tommy's face. He looked distressed even as he slept. 

“You're not a boy anymore, but you're still a silly one, my love.” Alfie spoke softly, more to himself than Tommy. 

He gently took one of Tommy's bandaged hands in his and studied it. Blood was staining the white gauze as the wounds were still fresh, there were abrasions and bruises on his bare fingers, it looked like he'd been in a fight with that mirror, alright. 

He bent over to ever so softly press his lips to Tommy's knuckles, and used his other hand to brush the sweat soaked hair that stuck to Tommy's forehead. Alfie hadn't meant for him to wake up, but he did blink his eyes open and squinted up at him. 

“Alfie?” Tommy croaked out. 

“Yeah, my love it’s me. It’s me.” Alfie nodded, thumb stroking his knuckles as carefully as he could. 

Tommy pulled his hand out of Alfie's gentle grip and covered his face with it. 

“I didn't want you to see me like this,” Tommy growled “fuck!” 

Alfie grimaced at that, head tilting to the side “You don't show vulnerability to your enemies, Tommy. I think we're something much different from that, yeah?”

Tommy moved his hands away from his face but didn't look at Alfie, nor did he say anything in response. 

“What's going on, Tommy?” Alfie simply asked, it was useless to just dance around it. 

Tommy let out a humorless snort, no reply this time either. 

“You found a man hard to beat, innit?” Alfie went on, eyebrows drawing together as he studied Tommy's features, and the way in which they twitched at his question “But you gotta stop thinking you're alone in this. You ain't alone, right, I'm here… And we're gonna-” 

“It's not just that, Alfie…” Tommy interrupted him, quietly. “I mean… It did make me lose it. But it's not just that.” 

Alfie knew it couldn't possibly be just Mosley, Tommy's perpetual suffering was rooted much deeper than just a fascist pig, he knew that all too well. Still he had been the reason that made Tommy snap, like a rope hanging on just by a thread. 

“Then what is it, sweetie?” 

Tommy shook his head, rolled on his side and went back to blankly stare ahead of him. 

Alfie placed a hand on Tommy's side and began to softly stroke it, a gesture of affection and encouragement that earned him a sigh, but not a glance in his direction. 

“Life is so much easier when you're dead. Didn't you say so?” Tommy finally answered in a monotone. 

His tone was so casual that it gave Alfie whiplash. His hand stilled on the slight curve of Tommy's hip, as he stared at Tommy in disbelief. 

“What the fuck are you on about? I didn't die, not really!” Alfie cried out, voice half an octave higher than his usual. “Sure enough I wasn't telling you to fucking kill yourself, now. Did I?” 

Tommy's lips remained sealed, but Alfie could tell his eyes were filling up with tears all over again, his breathing was quiet yet he could feel his body tensing up as he fought against the need to start sobbing. 

He shouldn't have yelled, but then again, how was he supposed to react to such statement? 

Alfie muttered something in Hebrew under his breath, kicked off his shoes without fanfare, then hitched himself farther up on the bed behind Tommy, so that he could wrap his arms around him and keep him close as he spooned him. 

Tommy let out a trembling breath and pressed back into Alfie's embrace. Alfie could have cried in that moment, Tommy felt as fragile as fine China in his arms, so much that he was almost scared to chip him. 

“I missed you.” Tommy admitted, his voice faltered ever so slightly. 

Alfie felt his heart squeeze in his chest tight enough to pop, yet he managed to place a kiss on the back of Tommy's head, right where his hair was shaved off. 

“Missed you too, love. But now I'm here, yeah?” Alfie reassured him. 

They didn't speak for the following thirty minutes or so, and Alfie had assumed Tommy had simply slipped into a slumber of sorts, he had had a rough day after all. Yet the moment in which he was almost sure he was about to fall asleep himself, Tommy cleared his throat. 

“Michael wants to take my place in the company,” Tommy started, in that awfully calm tone of his “Polly quit, Linda left Arthur and he would gladly quit as well, I was working with Ada's new partner and he got killed, and on top of it all she's pregnant with his child.” 

Alfie took a few moments to process everything Tommy had just listed, no wonder the man was going completely mad. His family and empire were starting to crumble to the ground and leave him holding a handful of air. 

“Well… Fuck.” was the first thing to come out of Alfie's mouth “Can't leave you alone for too long without everyone trying to fuck you harder than I do.” 

“Alfie…” 

“I know, I'm sorry. But it's true, innit?” Alfie's thumb began to stroke across Tommy's chest “I mean, Arthur and Ada are still here though, right? And I ain't going nowhere.” 

“I don't know for how long is any of you gonna stick around, so I thought I'd remove myself from the equation.” Tommy feebly shrugged a shoulder “Easier for everyone.”

“That's absolutely fucking stupid. Nonsense.” Alfie grunted into Tommy's black hair. “Why would I wanna resurrect and then keep living my life as a God without you by my side, eh?” 

A few more moments of silence followed, and Alfie kept quiet as well. He would have looked at Tommy through the mirror, but it was completely smashed and the only shards of glass that still remained attached to the frame showed nothing but a distorted image of the furniture. 

“My mother killed herself, you know? Drowned herself into a river.” Tommy spoke again “My grandfather killed himself as well. Runs in the family, apparently.” 

“Tommy…” 

Alfie suddenly felt crushed, like the ceiling had collapsed on top of him. The resignation in Tommy's voice was hurting him more than when he shot him. 

“We're cursed, us Gypsies, or so my mother claimed,” Tommy went on, the same monotone from earlier sending chills down Alfie's spine “We made the nails for Jesus's cross and now we're condemned to always move around, so if we settle… It gets us.” 

Alfie would have cracked a joke about Gypsies, but that wasn't the right time nor place, nor when Tommy was being so incredibly open with him about something so sensitive and intimate. 

“Then you shouldn't stay put, my love. Birmingham isn't being kind to you, Tommy.” Alfie's hand moved to thread through Tommy's hair as he spoke gently, and felt him shiver underneath that touch. 

“Yeah… Right.” Tommy muttered. 

“Come away, come to Margate… With me.” Alfie suggested in a heartbeat. 

He didn't even have to think it through, it was the perfect solution. If Tommy went with him, even just for a time, he could take a break from everything and they could finally spend some well deserved time with each other. 

Alfie knew that Tommy was addicted to power, but he also knew that any form of addiction, if untreated, would lead to the destruction of the addict. This is what was happening to Tommy… Gypsy curse or not. 

“I can't,” Tommy said right away “I'm the only one left.” 

Alfie's chest ached at the prompt reply, he was kind of expecting that to be the answer, but he was truly hoping that Tommy would actually say yes. 

“Besides… It didn't work for my mother.” Tommy added, before Alfie could even come up with a retort. 

“You wouldn't be as lonely, though. Your father was never around for her, right? I'm not your father and you're not your mother.” Alfie still managed to come up with an answer, even if it didn't sound right at all. 

“I'd certainly hope so.” Tommy replied, a hint of sarcasm in his voice. 

“Fuck off, you know the way I meant that.” Alfie rolled his eyes, and he could almost hear the smallest hint of a huff of laughter coming from Tommy “We're different people, I'm here for you and you're a different person from your mum, yeah?”

Tommy shifted in Alfie’s arms, and Alfie loosened his grip around him. He watched as Tommy’s eyes finally met his own, sapphire and jade getting lost into one another as if they hadn’t really seen each other until then.

Alfie was about to open his mouth again, desperate to try and convince Tommy to leave and spare himself of the useless pain of just staying burrowed into his mansion, when Tommy’s right hand moved to ever so gently rest on Alfie’s scarred cheek, the pained expression on Tommy's face lasting only a moment. 

“Look what I’ve done…” Tommy’s eyebrows drew together, his voice cracking mid sentence, yet he sucked in a shaky breath “The things I do to the people I love at times are worse than what I do to my enemies.”

Alfie shook his head “Sweetie, no. That’s not entirely on you, yeah? I’ve done this to myself just as much as you’ve done it to me.”

“How can you love someone like me?” Tommy asked all of a sudden, face warping with something that Alfie could only classify as… Disgust of sorts.

“I ain’t exactly a saint,” Alfie then looked up, remembering an important detail “I mean, after my resurrection I’ve clearly become a God, but that’s definitely beyond the point, innit?”

This time Tommy couldn’t really hold back the small laugh that bubbled through him, making the corners of his eyes wrinkle and his eyelids fall shut. There was a fluttering of butterfly wings inside of Alfie’s stomach, and a warm sense of relief spread through his chest. 

He had managed to make him smile, and that counted more than anything else. More than all the gold in the world.

“Just because something’s a little damaged it doesn’t mean you gotta throw it away, innit?” Alfie shrugged a shoulder.

“A little.” Tommy raised his eyebrows “The euphemism of the century.”

“You and I both, my love.” Alfie smirked.

“You really did come all the way to Birmingham, risking to be seen by everyone for me, eh?” Tommy asked, and Alfie could swear he could see his eyes sparkle like the ocean underneath the midday sun. 

“Well, we did try to make it so that the windows were as darkened as possible, right? My car looks like a bloody hearse now, but I’d do it all over again for you. I really would.” Alfie explained, then turned his head just enough to kiss the bandaged palm of Tommy’s hand.

“Margate is fucking awful, though.” Tommy grimaced.

“But my bed is fuckin’ beautiful. The best place in all of England, I tell you!” Alfie raised his eyebrows “You’re gonna love it, there. I promise.”

Tommy rolled his eyes, a soft smile stretching his lips as he rested his head on Alfie's shoulder, and Alfie finally eased down on the mattress. 

“You really, truly… Scared the absolute fucking shit out of me, Tom.” Alfie began, his mouth twisted in pain “You genuinely nearly gave me a heart attack, eh? When Arthur called, telling me that-” 

Tommy was looking absolutely distraught, guilty even, and Alfie couldn't bring himself to finish the sentence he'd started. He cupped Tommy's sharp jaw and shook his head. 

“I can't lose you, I just can't.” Alfie muttered “I'll do anything I can to help you feel better. Fucking _ everything _ in my power.” 

Tommy looked like he was about to shatter into a million pieces, his lower lip quivering as he simply said “Just kiss me. It's all I need right now.” 

And Alfie did oblige. Soft, yet desperate, yearning. He'd really feared he'd arrive in Birmingham to find a lifeless body, but Tommy was still there. Weak, damaged, but amidst the desperation in those ice blue eyes he saw relief, and the glimmer of hope. His Tommy was still there, it was going to take a while for him to feel more like himself, but Alfie was going to be there for him every step of the way. 

When they pulled back, Tommy's eyes were damp with tears, and Alfie kissed them dry. 

“I love you, Thomas.” Alfie grumbled against Tommy's eyelids. 

“I love you too, Alfred.” Tommy's voice came out in a broken breath. 

They were just about to kiss again when the door to the room suddenly bursted open, and over a hundred and fifty pounds of dog flew to the bed to attack Alfie… With tons and tons of slobbery kisses. 

“Fuckin’-!” Alfie groaned, then laughed out loud when he finally realized his dog had almost destroyed the door to come greet him. 

“Your dog is as gentle as you...” Tommy rolled his eyes, but couldn't help the laugh that tore from his very core. 

“Cyril!” Arthur's voice boomed from the threshold “Shit, I'm sorry! I'm sor- I'm not looking!” Arthur said as he covered his eyes with his hand “I couldn't hold him, he just-” 

“It's alright, Arthur, leave him be.” Tommy said, and Arthur immediately went to close the door. 

“Arthur!” Tommy called out, and his brother froze. 

“Yes, Tom?” Arthur asked, a hint of fear audible in his tone. 

“Thanks.” Tommy simply said, one of his bandaged hands carefully stroking Cyril's short fur. 

Alfie was still scratching behind Cyril's ears, but he was looking over to Arthur and how his expression had gone soft. 

“It's no problem, Tom. No problem at all.” Arthur muttered, then before he could actually shut the door, he glanced over to Alfie and nodded at him. His way to thank him. 

“Down boy, down. I missed you too, yeah. We're gonna be together for a while, I promise.” Alfie said as he tried to push Cyril to at least lay between his and Tommy's legs. 

“We can leave tomorrow morning, right?” Tommy raised an eyebrow. 

Alfie nodded “Tomorrow morning.” he echoed. 


End file.
